Once Bitten
by SweetFedora
Summary: One late night warehouse raid turns into a rollercoaster ride through the unbelieveable. Only Neal could get into so much trouble over night.
1. The Bite, 1

New York's White Collar Division of the FBI was full of hustling agents and shuffling papers. The unit was preparing to close a very high profile case today; some rich kid had a few very expensive paints stolen and was throwing a fit until he got them back. So who better to take the case than the agent with the best closing rate? Now Special Agent Peter Burke's entire unit was running about checking warrants, securing raid gear, looking at blue prints of their target location. Every single person in the office was focused on their current task at hand, all but one certain CI consultant.

"Come on, Peter. I'll stay right behind you and won't cause any problems," Neal Caffrey pleaded from his seat across from Peter's desk.

"No, Neal. You are not going on this raid. That's final." Peter Burke looked up from his final preparation paper work. As lead agent, Peter was in-charge of most everything going on with the raid. After days of searching and questions, Peter, and Neal, had located the warehouse and the time the thief was planning to fence his stolen merchandise.

"But Peter, you need me to verify the paintings anyway. Why can't I just go with the raid team?" Neal persisted. _Which was true_, Peter thought. Hughes wanted the case over and done with as quickly as possible. Taking Neal with them on the raid to verify the authenticity of the paintings at the warehouse excluded quite a few steps from traditional lab test verifications. _But Neal is Neal. And trouble is trouble. And the two like to go hand in hand,_ was what Peter's infamous 'Gut' was telling him.

Peter stood with a very loud sigh, grabbing search and arrest warrants in hand as he walked out of his glass walled office. Neal quickly stood and moved to follow Peter out when the agent paused in the office door way.

"Neal, do you remember the last raid you were on?" the seasoned agent questioned with that look. A look Neal knew all too well. That look said ' I'm going to try get my point across, hopefully you well listen.' Neal barely suppressed a grin; he never listens.

"Yes, Peter. I remember the raid," he said, all innocence and such. Oh, Neal did remember that raid, all too well. But hopefully Peter would get to the point fast and let Neal go if he stayed quiet and listened.

Peter's hand went up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "And do you remember what I said right before the raid?" Neal nodded his head yes. Peter looked straight at the con-man. "What exactly did I say?"

"You said to stay with Diana," Neal replied, recalling the conversation, much like this one, that he and Peter had before said the last raid.

Peter dropped his hand, shook his head, and let out another long, loud sigh. Neal just shifted his wait, wondering what was taking so long. "No, Neal. I explicitly stated that you stay in the _VAN _while the raid is going on. Then you were to stay with Diana _AFTER_ the raid was over." The agent knew well enough that Neal knew exactly what Peter had said. But Neal wanted to go with the raid team, so Neal only heard what Neal wanted to hear.

Neal just placed a look of surprise on his face, as if he had not heard that last part. "Ah, see, that last part. Didn't hear that bit."

It took everything in Peter to not place his palm to his face. The senior agent turned to walk down the small flight of stair towards the bullpen, Neal in tow. "No, you heard it. You just ignored it. Had you listened you wouldn't have scared that probie by coming out of nowhere right behind Diana." Peter passed to collected two bullet-proof vest from the stack of raid gear.

"That kid shot me, scared or not," Neal exclaimed in mock horror. "Honestly, you should train your new guys better." Neal nodded as he accepted the vest passed to him by Peter.

"The kid shot the vest I gave you just in case our suspects managed to get away from us and decide to hijack the van. Which you were suppose to stay in." Peter turned to face the whole floor, arms up and moving to catch attention. "Alright guys, twenty minutes before we move out. Collect raid gear, warrants and firearms and proceed down stairs," Peter command in a booming voice. He turned to face Neal again, "Neal, had you stayed in the van, Josef wouldn't have shot you. You were impulsive and it almost cost ya. The only way you are going with this raid team is if I handcuff you _twice_," Peter raised two fingers to emphasize his point," to the chair in the van and Jones stays with you. At all times."

Neal just nodded, once of his famous Caffrey grins firmly in place. At least now he is going with the raid and not stuck at the office solving cold cases or mortgage fraud cases. Neal reached forward as they approached the glass doors leading to the elevators, holding one door open for Peter.

"I promise, Peter. I'll stay in the van 'til the official gun carrying part of the raid is over," Neal said happily, holding three fingers up. "Scout's honor."

Again, Peter just shook his head. "Neal, you were never a scout." The lead agent looked up to spot the junior agent he was looking for. "Jones!" he called out to grab the young man's attention. "Come here a second."

The younger agent briskly walked over to is senior agent and friend. "Yeah, Boss?"

"Jones, you are gonna stay and watch Neal in the van. Just to make sure he doesn't do something he's gonna regret or that I'm gonna regret." Jones nodded with his understanding. "I'll radio you to bring Caffrey in once the raid area is secure and the paintings are in our custody," ordered Peter as Neal stood behind him rolling his eyes.

"Sure thing, Boss." Jones nodded once again and moved to adjust the gear he had for what his new situation would require.

Peter turned to look at his consultant, still holding the door for him and very large grin still in place. "Don't look so happy. You're still staying in the van." Peter stated as he walked passed.

"I can deal with that," Neal replied as he followed Peter in to the elevator.

Alright, so this little idea of a story has been lurking around since like the beginning of October. I was gonna be a short Halloween special, couldn't nail the story down. Then it was gonna be my NaNoWriMo project, but school got in the way. It has finally driven me nuts and taken on a life of its own and demanded to be put in writing. So here it is. Hopefully you all loved it and will leave nice reviews. Maybe someone will guess what's gonna happen to our favourite ex-con and FBI agent.

Also, I haven't forgotten my other projects. This thing has just taken over all functioning story writing parts of my brain for like the past four months or so. It's nuts.


	2. The Bite, 2

So I just realized that I didn't disclaimer in the first chapter. So…

Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable as USA Network property. White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA Network.

Just putting that out there. And to all you out there that thought this was an AU vampire story, I am sorry to say that it is the exact opposite. Enjoy the chapter!

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The sun had set quite some time ago, leaving the area the warehouse was in pretty dark. Warehouse itself was dark save for the small light in the middle of the main floor. All of the members of the raid teams were assigned their flashlights, assigned their groups and had moved to their assigned entry points. The raid itself had started several minutes ago, allowing shouts of "FBI! On the ground!" and other such orders to be heard in the van.

"So… how long do these things normally last?" Neal asked from his seat in the infamous van. "The raids seem so much short when you are out there with them." Jones turned to look from the monitors to Neal. Peter had kept his promise on the conditions for Neal to come along with the raid teams. The former con artist was currently handcuffed to one of the chairs in the van, twice. He swung the chair back and forth as he watched the teams on the computer monitors in front of him. Jones couldn't help but chuckle. The handcuffs that Peter had used to attach the CI to the chair were still in place and Jones just couldn't help but think that the criminal part of the team was just keeping them in place for Peter's sake.

"Ah, well, it all depends on the place," Jones said as he unplugged the headphones from the computers, so Neal could hear as well – seeing as he was a bit 'tied up' at the moment. "It all depends on the building: how many floors there are, how many suspects there are, if there were any items that need to be recovered." Jones shrugged. "The raids could be twenty minutes to three hours. It all depends."

Neal shrugged as best he could. The junior agent would let the con man out of the cuffs if his boss hadn't been strict about not doing so. Clinton guessed that Peter was trying to get something into the former con's head. It appeared to be working, whatever it was. The normally very talkative young man had barely said a word since the raid had started.

From the sounds coming from the speakers it would seem that the warehouse was nearly empty, save for the one-time art thief and his stolen cache. Peter's team had already apprehended their man and paintings and Diana's team was nearly done sweeping the rest of the warehouse. Crackling from the heavy duty walkie talkie drew their attention. It was Peter calling back to the van.

"Jones. You still with Caffrey?" the static voice asked. Jones reached over to pick the walkie up.

"Yup, Boss. Caffrey's still in the van. And the handcuffs." Jones looked from monitor to monitor before his eyes landed on Neal. The con man was moving his arms up and down, hands behind his back. Probably getting the cuffs off, Jones thought to some amusement.

"That's a surprise. I figured he'd have 'em off as soon as we went in." It was hard to miss the smirk in the older FBI agent's voice.

"I don't know, Boss. Considering he managed to leave the cuffs on the whole time is a feat," Jones chuckled as Neal stretched his arms up over his head, both wrists free of metal bracelets.

"He's out now, isn't he?" Peter laughed over the walkie.

"That would be a yeah." Jones replied, trying desperately not laugh at Neal's almost-scowl. He was mumbling to himself, something about never catching a break.

"Oh well, at least it lasted as long as it did," Peter sighed. "Well, back to business. We have the building secured, our thief under arrest and all paintings accounted for. Go ahead and bring Neal in here so we can verify authenticity. Maybe we can get out of here at a decent time." Peter was back in full lead FBI agent mode again.

"Thank you! Anything to get out of this van!" was Neal exasperated response as he practically flew out of the van doors. Finally, Jones let the laugh escape and announced to Peter that they were on their way.

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"Come on, Jones! Let's go!" Neal called over his shoulder. He had taken a running start from the van, like a kid at an amusement park. At about half way between the warehouse and the van, the consultant realized that Jones was still back by the van. So he stopped and waited. And waited. And waited some more, anything to keep from going back to the van, even if it was only to get Jones to hurry.

The warehouse area itself was dark, with little light coming from street lamps and buildings. The only real source of light that night was the bright full moon that hung low in the sky. It illuminated the alley that Neal was standing in waiting for Jones in an eerie light. Neal brought his head up to observe the silvery orb. Behind him, the sound of clicking announced the arrival of someone approaching. "Hey Jones, let's go," he called again, still looking up at the moon.

Silence answered him. Neal tilted his head to listen for the clicking sound again. At first, it sounded like shoes running on the pavement. But as he listened closer, and the clicking got further apart and closer to him, it sounded less and less like a human. _It sounds like a dog's nails…_ The sound resembled the sound of a dog walking on concrete. A very big dog walking on concrete.

Neal turned to face the source of the sound – a shadowed entrance to a side alleyway. "Jones, this isn't funny," the con man called in the direction of the alley. Again there was no sound beyond the ominous clicking.

Neal began backing up from the alley, calling Jones loudly all the while. The former con man was not one for showing fear openly. Open emotions in his former line of work could have gotten him killed, had come close to it in the beginning. But this... thing... in the alley way was inciting a primal fear the young man had never experienced before. His fight or flight instinct was strictly flight at the moment; every nerve was jumping, demanding, begging for Neal to run. Run away from the threat, run to safety, to run to Peter.

Neal bumped into the lamppost behind him, frozen by the sound and praying that the creature hadn't noticed it. It was a lost cause. The consultant could see yellow eyes glowing and flashing in the darkness of the alley way. The clicking began again as the creature moved forward- moved towards Neal. A shadowy shape began to form as the creature emerged from the darkness. It was large- a huge shape bent over so that its massive shoulders was the tallest part of its structure. The arms and torso look distinctly human or humanoid; it had clawed human hands! But the rest was... different. The hind legs were bent backwards like a dog's. It sported a long, almost limp, tail that swayed back and forth as it moved.

The most disturbing was its head. For all its human-like qualities, the head was definitely that of a dog or wolf. Its nose was a snout, its jaws were lined with sharp canines, its ears stood up and swiveled back and forth. And its eyes, those demonic eyes, glowed like a yellow gold nightlight.


End file.
